celerity lover

Her outfit was like that of fairy tale princess, soft pink with fluttering material that made her appear like an apparition. Her hair was a glossy black that hung down to her back in loose curls, framing a strong face with a square jawline. Her lips, lovely and full, were as red as blood, but when his gaze landed on her eyes, it felt as if whatever breath could have filled his unmoving lungs would have been stolen. Black. Utterly black. No glint of light within. It was as if he was staring into a void when looking into them. A suffocating color that felt like it was ensnaring him, pulling him in, containing him. Her silence, her stillness, her eyes… "You slaughtered your Prince." She finally spoke, her voice sounding surprisingly mature for one who appeared so young. He had not doubted she was like him, but he felt this confirmed it. "What made you?" She did not appear afraid of him, nor accusatory. Her expression remained completely stoic and without judgement. It was as if he was speaking to the gatekeeper of the Underworld. So he responded, "He betrayed me." She did not physically react, "How so?"

Normally he would never feel compelled to answer for himself to a stranger, but here and now he felt moved to do so. He turned fully now to face her. "He had been my lord for near two centuries, someone I had almost considered a friend. But ambition claimed him. He changed, and became a mewling fool to get into the good graces of spineless, pathetic wretches who would neuter their own fangs to live a little longer. Him and everyone here would have bowed to the Ivory Tower and served them utterly just to taste power they were too weak to make on their own. He stabbed the backs of our sect, our pack, my neck, to get what he wanted for himself. I could tolerate it no longer. His last command was to kill everyone here, and so I did." Carver had been the first to die. Let it never be said he was an untrustworthy knight. She remained still, that watchful gaze still upon him, and spoke again. "He and all before him made you what you are now. They had encouraged you, forged you into their champion. They told you that you were doing exactly what they wanted, sicced you on their foes like a dog, and then punished you when you continued to serve as you had but it no longer suited their interests." He felt a small surge of… something, when being called a dog, but it was not exactly anger. It had a certain sound in her mouth. "They all wanted to change you." She continued. "To put you in restraints. They wanted to take away everything you were to make themselves appear better, in control." She was right. He had not realized until now, but they had both stepped closer to the other. Her scent was overwhelming, her features so striking, and the presence of quiet Death clung to her like a shroud. Those black eyes. The oblivion felt like blanket, like he was finally able to rest. "I know this agony well." She told him, and the word in her voice made him shiver. He believed her. They were closer now than they had been. Not a sound in the room, save for the muffled echo of their approaching steps. In her eyes he now thought he could see them reflect his own, the seething red that he could not hide. The glinting hatred meeting its match. "I'm Godwynn Forrester." He said, their gazing never breaking, unwavering. "I'm Noa Hidalgo-Giovanni." She responded in kind, and after a brief pause, she held up her hand. Outwardly calm though inwardly salivating, he took it. They both had skin as cold as ice, but to him, he had never felt more awake and reinvigorated at her touch. He felt as if he had no need to wonder about where they could go together as he took the back of her hand to his lips, placing a kiss to her knuckle. He fought the urge to taste. "It is nice to finally meet you, Mr. Forrester."